


Memories of the Past

by raven_with_a_writing_desk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Complete, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Set between season 7 and 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:25:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_with_a_writing_desk/pseuds/raven_with_a_writing_desk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months after Dean disappears into Purgatory, Sam returns to Bobby's house looking for something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this post:  
> http://itssamwinchester.tumblr.com/post/38013904754/based-on-this-post
> 
> Beta by treewar

It takes Sam four months and five days after Dean disappears to go back. Four months of sitting in a cheap motel room fixing radiators and drinking himself into unconsciousness every night before he finally gives in. Getting into the Impala, Sam drives off and arrives at his destination 18 hours later.

Stopping at the end of the driveway, Sam looks up at the rusty sign declaring ‘Singer’s Auto.’ The letters might originally have been red but now they’ve faded to a dull brown. 

Slowly, Sam crawls up the driveway, taking in the amount of weeds that have grown on either side of the car since Bobby died; he can hear the sound of branches scraping along the Impala’s sleek exterior. His mind quickly flashes back to that day so many years ago when Dean had sworn he’d come back to haunt Sam if he ever messed up his baby. Sam can practically hear Dean groaning about wrecking the paint job.

Entering the yard Sam looks around, taking in the old piles of rust scattered through the field. They had never been in great shape to begin with but after so many months of rain and snow, they’re barely recognizable as cars.  But that’s not what Sam came to look at.

Pulling up to the end of the yard, Sam stares out at the pile of bricks and rotting wood in front of him. The old house has mostly been overgrown with weeds by now but the original structure is still somewhat recognizable. Getting out of the car, Sam cautiously approaches the wreckage as if something might leap out of the shadows to attack him.

Walking up the stairs to the porch, Sam pauses slightly before crossing the threshold. He doesn’t know why he came here or why all of a sudden he’s hesitant to continue but he can feel a sort of tug under his ribcage, almost as if the house was pulling him in. And Sam has learned to trust his gut feeling by now.

Taking a deep breath, Sam steps over the threshold and into what had once been Bobby’s kitchen. The roof is gone now, as is the furniture. It had all burned in the fire. Sam doesn’t linger in that room, doesn’t look at where the old kitchen table had once stood, home to too many late night beers and dental floss stitches. Doesn’t look at the cupboard under the sink, only half burned off, where he had once hidden from Dean in a game of hide-and-seek when their dad had dropped them off as kids. 

Moving further into the house, Sam glances around as he enters what is left of the living room. Some pieces of stuffing from the old couch still lie in clumps on the ground, only a bit charred on the ends. The old TV lies in the corner on its side, the screen shattered. There are still a couple stairs on the staircase but they don’t lead anywhere. The entire upper floor had collapsed during the fire. These are the only two rooms left.

Sam stops in the middle of the room, looking around, trying to figure out what brought him here. Maybe he jut needs closure or maybe he will find some hint of what he is supposed to do now, of how he is supposed to carry on without his brother. Or maybe he’s just going crazy.

Sam sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face, refusing to let the tears pricking his eyes fall. _I will not cry_ , he told himself. It is a mantra he has found himself repeating since his brother’s disappearance. He must’ve repeated it a thousand times since that day.

Turning, Sam is about to leave the room when something on the ground catches his eye. Leaning down, Sam picks up an old photograph, although he can barely make it out through the dust and gloom. Walking out of the house, he wipes off the photograph and stops dead when he sees what it is.

Although burned in a few spots, it’s easy enough to make out. Sam and his brother and Castiel, all caught mid-laugh by Bobby’s camera. Sam remembers that moment clearly; it’s easy enough when they come so few and far between. They had just finished a hunt and had managed to find both kidnapped victims alive although there were some minor injuries. But no one had died that day, which was a cause for celebration. They had all loaded up and gone back to Bobby’s for beers and steaks, laughing and joking the whole ride. Upon arriving, Bobby had snuck into the house quickly and grabbed an old disposable camera he had had lying around (really, who uses those things anymore?) and had managed to snap a quick picture of them all laughing at some stupid joke Castiel had made. Sam had had no idea Bobby actually developed it and it is the fact that he had that sends Sam over the edge.

Huge, body-wracking sobs burst out of him, his mantra completely forgotten. Falling to his knees, Sam puts his head in his hands and cries. For the first time since his brother and Castiel disappeared with Dick Roman, Sam lets go of all the anguish hehas built up and screams his sorrows to the heavens.

Hours later ( _or had it only been minutes?_ ), Sam finally gets to his feet and goes back to the Impala, photograph still clutched in his hand. He knows what he needs to do now and he drives off to get the supplies he needs to do it.

That night, Sam finds a crossroad.


End file.
